


Excuses

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Complicated Relationships, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23092474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Jon feels guilty for letting Theon fuck him.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Excuses

Jon feels guilty for letting Theon fuck him.

That is probably the only correct emotional response to the situation, at least when Theon insists on being such a prick about the situation, of bursting into his room in the middle of the night, thinking of nothing of shaking Jon awake if he finds him asleep, whining with wine on his breath: _'Snow, I want sex,'_ and pulling his legs apart so roughly he leaves bruises.

He knows he shouldn't let Greyjoy – he tries to remind himself to call him Greyjoy while they're fucking, because that's the level of intimacy Theon's behaviour deserves – act as such, that he should throw him out if he doesn't know how to ask nicely, that just because he is technically commonborn doesn't mean he has to spread his legs as easy as any whore who's been bought and paid for, sold to some entitled noble cunt, his to do whatever he likes with for one night at least.

In the light of day, Jon is the last to take any of Greyjoy's bullshit, always scowling and snarling, willing to fight him off if it seems like his bad behaviour is being too much of an influence on Robb. And yet, when Greyjoy comes to him in the dead of night, Jon never says no. And he doesn't have an excuse for it.

Adolescent lust is the most obvious answer, the aching need of a boy on the cusp of manhood who won't let himself inflict those needs upon women, like the gods intended. He knows, to lie with a woman in such a fashion is much less a sin than to do so with another man (he's heard this from Lady Catelyn's bloody septon, which makes him reluctant to accept it as incontrovertible truth) – he knows that, but he's not sure he can bring himself to believe it. After all, one of these things could sire a bastard, another person to struggle with the shadow of unholy lust weighing over their existence, and one cannot. Which is he meant to believe the gods disapprove more of?

Perhaps, Jon thinks as he scratches at Theon's shoulders, moaning all the while, that is why he always lets Theon fuck him, and never asks for the reverse. He likes to feel like he's being punished. He relishes the brisk pain when Theon first shoves inside, because of course Theon isn't considerate enough to prepare him properly, and he thinks that being taken by someone who is, admittedly technically, an enemy of his family _ought_ to feel like that. That moment of pain gives him license to indulge, to moan, to beg, to writhe, to act like a filthy whore who craves cock and nothing else, who would give up anything and anyone for more, and who has no obligation to pretend otherwise.

Theon seems to enjoy his wantonness, moans muffled into masculine grunts, the hands grasping Jon's hips shaking as he holds him steady. “You fucking slut, just begging for my cock, aren't you?” Jon closes his eyes, lets the words wash over him. They're not romantic, or even creative – but they are erotic, the thought Theon thinks of him as yet another disposable whore, and talks to him the same way. That makes Jon's cock jump against his belly, although it also makes him feel a little sick inside.

Pretty, that's what Theon likes to call him, and he seems to think that if he points out enough just how girlish Jon looks, and if he's always the one to do the fucking, he'll never have to acknowledge he's fucking a man. Jon lets him think that. He pretends not to notice Theon staring at his prick, which is hardly anything to be impressed by, but it makes Theon lick his lips like he is stranded in the desert and it's the only water for miles.

If Theon just _asked_ to suck him off, Jon would allow it, of course he would, but Theon never does. Perhaps that's a relief for the both of them.

It shouldn't be so good for him, Jon thinks, his legs tight around Theon's waist, gasping in pleasure as that _big_ cock (he always thought Theon must be lying about that, but apparently not) drives inch after inch into him, make him keen on it with need. He should feel disgusted, humiliated, he should loathe himself for being willing to be nothing but Greyjoy's bitch. He's sure that's exactly how Theon thinks of him, after all.

And yet, it's not that simple. He imagines his family, and how they would feel if they knew what he and Theon got up to. They would be appalled, of course – but more than that, they'd be worried. They would be afraid of what it meant that the Greyjoy boy, their hostage, got to fuck one of them. Even if it was only the bastard.

That gives Jon a claim on them. What he does still matters to them, it still affects what this family is, even if some people might prefer to think otherwise. Fucking Theon makes him a Stark, through some bizarre, circuitous route.

Theon comes in his arse with a deep, low groan, still pretending he doesn't get off harder coming in a man's arse than a woman's cunt. “I'll see you in the morning, Snow,” he says, quick to pick himself and pull himself away, not to let himself give away anything he hasn't already.

Jon lets himself sneak out into the dark corridors, not wanting to think there might be anything more to this than spite and lust, not wanting to think they would have anything in common, anything they might share beyond these base pleasures.

As the door slams shut Jon reaches to touch his arse with his fingers, feeling himself wet and slick with Theon's seed. He does feel guilty, very guilty, at having disgraced his family so. But also, he feels so very _good._


End file.
